Eric arrived at the chosen destination early, just as the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the horizon. He hadn’t known about this building before today, but when Samuel had given him the address, he assumed that it had something to do with the College. Based on the instructions he’d received from the citizens he asked, it was very close to the Mage’s College, which lay in the western half of the city. The houses in this district were of much higher quality, and the people wore much finer clothing. The quality of life here was almost equal to the nobles, he noticed.

Eric recognized his destination at once, as he spotted Samuel there, with a few others, Masters that he’d never heard of. There was one other man, in the white robe of an Archmage. Two men in white robes of a different cut, more like the Masters of Issho-Ni, though he did not recognize them. And then there were two men and one woman, dressed in a wide variety of armor and carrying different weapons. The only common thing between these three was a mask hanging about their necks, featuring white fangs on black cloth.

Samuel spotted him at once and beckoned him over. His cohorts stopped their low conversations at once, also turning to survey him. Eric approached, keenly aware of the concerted gazes. He and Samuel shook hands, then the tall mage indicated his fellow Archmage with a wave of his hand.

“Eric, meet Averin Thunderborn,” he said. “The current Archmage of Destruction.”

Eric gave the man a quick salute, and Averin inclined his head gravely. “It is an honor to meet you, Archmage Thunderborn.”

“Likewise,” Averin replied. His voice was exceptionally deep for his short and thin frame. “It seems that Paragon Bragg has great hopes for you. I pray that you will do us proud.”

Eric said nothing to that, choosing instead to cast a quick glance around at the other people gathered. They were all staring incessantly at him as if they’d never seen something so peculiar. “Who are all these people?”

“I can’t say I blame you for not recognizing them,” Samuel said. He indicated the two white-robed men who, upon closer inspection, resembled monks. “These are Masters Oto and Ceol, from the Sanctuary. Their master has kindly lent them to us so that we can perform our work more efficiently.”

“We,” the woman of the mask-wearing trio spoke before Samuel could introduce them. “Are the Skyfiends.”

“Skyfiends?” The name was vaguely familiar to Eric, though he couldn’t remember where he might have heard it. “Are you part of the Tyrman military?”

“We are an elite team,” the woman said. “We are technically Maravino, but we operate alone, at the Crown’s discretion.”

Now the memory came back to Eric. “Wait. Aren’t you dragon riders?”

A grin spread across all three faces, showing far too much of their teeth for his liking. Now that he studied the trio closer, he was able to notice slight draconic features about them. The oldest of the three, a man with red hair peppered with grey, had tough skin, almost like scales. The younger man’s jacket bulged oddly in the back as if he had wings, and his fingers were longer, like talons. The woman looked more normal than the others, but as she smiled and blinked at him, he saw that her eyes were bright yellow, and she had slits for pupils.

“You are not wrong,” She said. “Our partners are currently elsewhere, eating.”

“Korath is probably gorging himself sick again,” the younger man said. His older companion spared him a glare, and he grinned easily. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Right,” Samuel said, interrupting the banter that was growing. “Can we get on with business? Else we’ll take too long, and miss lunch.”

“Of course,” the older man said, silencing his comrades with a look. “Continue, Archmage.”

Samuel nodded his gratitude and turned to address the others. “As you all know, you’re being pulled into a unique unit of fighters. Our goal isn’t sanctioned military action, but to be the instant response that is needed to keep our nation safe.”

“Are we facing a threat?” Oto, the older master asked. “Is it something that the military could not handle?”

“I’m sure the military could handle it easily,” Samuel answered him. “But they would react too slow. You know better than most that armies take weeks, even months to fully gather.”

“So we’re a rapid-response unit,” Eric commented.

“Indeed,” Samuel agreed, pointing at him. “Each of you has been pulled in because you specialize in one way that can prove useful. I believe that together, we may just be enough. For a start.”

“What role will you play?” Eric asked suddenly. “Will you use your magic to help us in some way?”

The others looked almost offended at his question, but Samuel seemed unperturbed. He smiled at Eric, as if thrilled that he’d asked. “I will use my magic to move our unit around when needed. I can teleport you anywhere in Ahya, in an instant. I also have a wide net of information sources that span the continents, and so I can hear of trouble as soon as it forms.”

Eric nodded his understanding. He’d expected the answer but wanted a further clue as to what kind of magic Samuel specialized in. He’d only seen the Archmage use a few spells since they’d met. He wondered what his role in all this was, but he held his tongue, confident that it would be explained to him soon. The others had vaguely curious expressions on their faces as they studied Samuel, also clearly waiting for a further explanation.

“Oto and Ceol, you both excel at forming connections. Your magic allows you to hear across vast distances, so you’ll be helping me gather news.”

The two monks nodded. Eric realized that the younger one hadn’t said a single word since the meeting began. Either he wasn’t interested in speaking, or he couldn’t. He wondered which case it was.

“Trian, Valex, Ehran,” Samuel nodded at the three Skyfiends. Eric experienced a jolt somewhere in the region of his stomach at the name. Apparently, it wasn’t a unique one. “ You three succeed in fast movement and large area suppression. You’re also the greatest scouts I know of. I’d like you to keep an eye on the northern coast for me, particularly between Sheran and Jyrok. That is where the most landing spots are.”

“You think the colonies pose a threat?” The older man asked.

“No, Trian,” Samuel replied. “I think that their defenses are undeveloped, so they won’t be able to spot any naval forces slipping past them to attack us.”

Trian nodded silent acknowledgment of the assessment, and Samuel moved on, turning to face Eric. “You, Eric, are exceptional in single combat and small groups. You’re going to be the most crucial help we have when it comes to lightning-fast responses. You’ll be on standby more than the others, but expect to be sent somewhere at a moment’s notice.”

Eric nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His stomach was already tight with unease, and he felt as though he’d lose his breakfast if he opened his mouth. Thankfully, the others didn’t seem to realize this, as they were breaking apart and discussing quietly to themselves. Samuel moved away to talk to his fellow Archmage in a quiet whisper, leaving Eric alone. He was watching the two monks. The elder was speaking in a quiet voice, but yet again, Ceol’s mouth remained firmly closed. Maybe he really couldn’t speak, after all, Eric thought.

The others were undoubtedly discussing plans and tactics, he thought, but he merely stood where he was, watching the process. He had no real need to make plans at the moment, as his role sounded relatively straightforward. Samuel wanted him to be a mobile attacker. He would show up to a new location, deal with some threat, then return. He felt partially relieved at the thought that his job would be so simple, yet he couldn’t ignore the stress of the job. Already, he was feeling out of place compared to the others, with their fancy titles and influence.

“Eric,” Samuel’s voice broke into his thoughts. Averin had disappeared, and the tall mage was a foot away, watching him closely. “I’m sorry to say this, but your first job is important, and it is immediate. Are you ready?”

Resolutely ignoring the tightening of the knot in his stomach, Eric nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. What do you need me to do?”

Samuel noticed the tension in his stance and grinned reassuringly. “Relax. You should be prepared for some fighting, but I wouldn’t ask if you weren’t completely capable of doing it. I just need your help finding some allies.”

“You don’t know where they are?” Eric asked, surprised. “How can I be expected to find them if you failed to?”

“Oh, I know where they are,” Samuel replied. “I just can’t reach them, as it would be… improper. I’m expected to maintain a certain standard of discipline. You, on the other hand, are bound by no such rule.”

“I see. Where are they, then?”

“They are in Attos,” The Archmage said, as casually as someone mentioning where their favorite restaurant was. “They are scouts for the College, and they were taken captive on the coast for their ties to Tyrman. As you can imagine, Attos and Tyrman are not on the best of terms at the moment.”

Eric nodded his understanding. “So you want me to get them out.”

“Yes. The camp they are being held in is a fairly small one, with only a minimal force to defend it. I have scried upon the camp many times, so I know that you can accomplish this.”

“Still,” Eric said hesitantly. “Fighting an entire camp by myself is a tough task. I’m not sure I can manage-”

“You won’t be alone,” Samuel interrupted him. “Once you can break the bindings that have been placed upon the prisoners, they’ll doubtless lend a hand to the overall escape. Their manacles are enchanted to suppress magic, but this makes them weak. You can break them with a good swing of your sword.”

That made sense, Eric thought. From what he’d seen in Ahya, strong magical power often also created an inherent physical weakness that could be exploited. And it wasn’t like manacles could fight back, so he was certain that he could strike the prisoners free. Then, he thought, he rather enjoyed the idea of leading a group of accomplished mages out of the camp, having their spells as backup.

“What should I do once they’re free and we leave the camp? Or rather, where should I take them?”

“There is a boat ready to take them home,” Samuel explained. “You, I will bring back by magic. Do you need any time to prepare?”

Eric shook his head. “I’ve already done my warmup training for the day. It should only take a few, hours, right? No need to bring any food.”

“True,” Samuel agreed. “But take this, just in case you need it.”

This turned out to be a large healing potion, easily twice the size of any Eric owned. He put it in his satchel with a quiet word of thanks. “Alright. Send me over then, and I’ll get this over with. Should I just use one of my message scrolls to let you know when I’m done?”

“That’s not necessary,” Samuel said with a shake of his head. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you. As soon as the prisoners are on the boat, just run, and I’ll pull you back.”

“Right,” Eric said nervously. “Let’s do this, then.”

Samuel nodded and raised both of his arms. Mana rushed out to coat both of his hands, and between them, the air seemed to wriggle, then split with a crack. Eric caught a brief glimpse of something on the other side, like a sea of chaos. Then Samuel gave a short wave, and the split in the air moved to swallow him. He closed his eyes tightly against the nauseous feeling of the energy and felt pulled forward at blinding speeds. Then, before he could even comprehend the movement, it had stopped. He heard the sound of the ocean behind him and opened his eyes again. There, in front of him, was the enemy camp.